Alternate Roots
by A. A. Aaron
Summary: What if Mischa and Clarice's dad had both survived?...A one-act play taking place at the same time as SOTL.


  
  
Title: Alternate Roots  
  
Author: A.A.Aaron  
  
Timeline: Same as SOTL but in a parallel Universe  
  
Disclaimer: Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and all other characters in this play are the property of Thomas Harris. The author is not receiving any payment.  
  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
FBI trainee Clarice Starling walked rapidly from the firing range to Behavioral Science Section Chief Jack Crawford's office in the Academy building at Quantico. She had no time to wash -- Crawford's summons had said now. Crawford motioned her into the office as he finished his telephone conversation. He took her file out and opened it.  
  
  
"Starling, Clarice M., good morning," he said.  
  
"Hello." She smiled politely. This was the first time they had spoken since she had qualified for the academy. She had met Special Agent Crawford when he was a guest lecturer at the University of Virginia. The quality of his criminology seminars was a factor in her coming to the Bureau.   
  
"A job came up and I thought about you," he said. Clarice Starling felt a glad thumping in her chest and some apprehension too. Her first thought was that she was being given a chance to join the Buffalo Bill Task Force. This was the hottest case at the moment. There were five victims found so far. All were full-figured young women. They had been kept alive for a week or so before being shot to death or hanged, then partly skinned, and dumped in a river at a random location far from where they were abducted. Another abduction had just been reported, and the M.O. was definitely that of Buffalo Bill. The victim was the daughter of Senator Ruth Martin.   
  
"What do you know about Dr. Hannibal Lecter?" Crawford asked.  
  
"Hannibal Lecter? Well, let's see. Dr. Lecter was this year's winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. Newsweek called him 'The Architect of Peace in the Balkans.' He's expected to be the next Secretary of State when Loring retires. And his sister Mischa hosts a weekly book discussion seminar on PBS."  
  
"We're not really interested in his sister's activities," said Crawford, dryly. However, Dr. Lecter is Senator Martin's fiancé and he has asked to be allowed to take part in the investigation now that her daughter has been kidnapped by Buffalo Bill. With Dr. Lecter's political clout, we're not about to refuse this request. He wants to work independently of the Task Force. That is fine with us. However, I'd like you to act as the liaison between him and the Task Force."  
  
"Okay, right. I'm glad of the chance, but you have to know I'm wondering - why me?"  
  
"Mainly because you're available," Crawford said. "I don't have anybody left in this section to do it." He lowered his voice. "Word has just come through that a floater has been found in West Virginia with Buffalo Bill's M.O. I'm leaving in about..." he glanced at his watch..."forty minutes to fly down there while the scene is still fresh. So meanwhile, Hannibal Lecter is all yours."  
  
  
  
Several hours later, Jack Crawford's people completed their examination of the as-yet unidentified body. There was little doubt that it was another victim of Buffalo Bill. None of those present noticed a cocoon stuffed down the victim's throat.  
  
  
  
Clarice was curious about Dr. Lecter. She was familiar with the name and had seen him on TV, but knew very little about the man. She remembered seeing an article about him in a recent Newsweek. Clarice located a copy in the Academy library and skimmed through the article. She formed a mental synopsis of the highlights.  
  
*Hannibal Lecter and his sister Mischa were born in Lithuania to an aristocratic family. Their parents were killed in World War 2. At the time, Hannibal was six tears old and Mischa was two. After the war, family friends helped them to emigrate to the United States. He volunteered for the army during the Vietnam conflict, was wounded in combat and was awarded the Medal of Honor. He enrolled at Harvard where he earned his M.D. and Ph.D. in record time. He opened a psychiatric practice, achieved prominence; then gave up his practice to join the David Atchison administration. There his skills as an international negotiator were recognized and utilized. Dr. Lecter is the current recipient of the Nobel Peace prize for his mediations in the Balkans. He is expected to be appointed Secretary of State for President Atchison's second term.  
  
Dr. Lecter's sister, Mischa, had married an army officer, Major Ethan Brooks. Her husband was killed in a helicopter accident, leaving her with two children. Her brother, Hannibal, urged her to move with the children into his home and she was happy to accept. She hosts the program 'Book World' on PBS.*  
  
  
  
  
  
Clarice Starling met Dr. Hannibal Lecter at the reception desk and escorted him to a small conference room. She could see that he was not tall, but sleek and with wiry strength like her own. His eyes were maroon and they reflected the light in pinpoints of red. His features remained impassive but his eyes glistened as he spoke.  
  
  
"A trainee? Jack Crawford sent a trainee to work with me?"  
  
"I'm still in training at the Academy, yes," Starling said, "but we're not discussing my FBI experience - we're talking about psychology. I majored in psychology and criminology at the University of Virginia. Can you decide for yourself if I'm qualified to act as your liaison with the Buffalo Bill Task Force?"  
  
"Ummmm," Dr. Lecter said. "Actually... that's rather slippery of you. Tell me, did Jack Crawford give you any covert instructions in regard to this assignment?"   
  
"I don't know what you're driving at, but no, I received no instructions, covert or otherwise."   
  
Dr. Lecter's nostrils flared briefly as he inhaled. He appeared to savor the fragrance of the air. His features relaxed and he smiled slightly. "I apologize. Jack Crawford and I have had certain differences but I had no justification in presuming that you were involved." His smile widened. "Am I forgiven?"  
  
Clarice caught her breath,  
  
*Wow. This guy can turn on the charm.*   
  
"There's nothing to forgive. I'm glad I was given this assignment and I have no hidden agenda."  
  
"Good. Let's start afresh." They become engrossed in the autopsy results for the most recent murder victim...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Alternate Roots - A one act play  
  
It is four months after Catherine Martin's rescue.  
  
  
  
  
Scene 1 - A party at Senator Ruth Martin's home. Twenty or so guests are mingling.  
  
  
  
HL: So, Clarice; now that you have graduated from the Academy, I gather we should address you as "Agent Starling".  
  
CS: [Making a small curtsey] If it pleases you, Dr. Lecter.  
  
HL: Since we're practically related, Clarice, I think you may forego the formality of calling me "Dr. Lecter.  
  
CS: Let's see. Since my father is marrying your sister, that would make you...what, my Uncle-in-Law? How about "Uncle Hannibal"?  
  
HL: Hmmm... perhaps we should just stick to "Hannibal".  
  
[Senator Ruth Martin approaches and greets Hannibal with a chaste kiss]  
  
RM: And how are my two favorite people?  
  
HL: We're fine, Ruth, enjoying your marvelous party.  
  
CS: Have you two set your wedding date yet?  
  
RM: Not yet. It will be some time after the election. I'll be too busy campaigning before then.  
  
HL: I've been trying to convince her that a wedding before the election would gain more votes than a dozen speeches, but she won't buy it.  
  
RM: You're probably right, but I'd rather lose than win by a stunt.  
  
HL: That's my girl.  
  
CS: Ruth, how is Catherine doing?  
  
RM: She's doing just fine. My daughter has a lot of backbone.  
  
[Mischa Lecter approaches, giving her brother a hug]  
  
ML: Hey, is this a private meeting or can anybody join in?  
  
CS: Hi, Mischa. Where did you park my dad?  
  
ML: [Waves vaguely in the direction of another group] He's got a bevy of cuties hanging on to his every word. Well, we all know he's a charmer.  
  
RM: What about that boy you've been seeing, Clarice? Does it look as though something serious will be happening there?  
  
CS: Well, I don't know anything about entomology or chess and he doesn't know anything about psychology or criminology, so we should make a perfect pair. Seriously though, he's a good friend and he'll make a good husband and father; but neither of us is in a hurry to make any long-term commitments.  
  
[Brief pause before conversation resumes]  
  
ML: I've been meaning to ask... what was the whole story behind the Buffalo Bill capture? I read the National Tattler's version and it left me all confused.  
  
HL: Here is the story. I involved myself because the latest kidnap victim was my fiancée's daughter and I wasn't going to stand by without doing all I could to help rescue her. I had enough political clout not to get the brush-off from the FBI. Clarice was involved because her boss at the FBI ran out of warm bodies and had to use a trainee for some errands. She examined the photographs taken at the autopsy of the latest victim, whose body had just been found. She realized that two of the skin patches that Buffalo Bill had taken from the body were identical to darts used in dressmaking, indicating that the killer, who was fabricating a garment from his victims' skins, was a skilled seamstress... seamster?... whatever. Clarice went to the first victim's hometown where she followed a lead to a local dressmaker's house. The dressmaker died two years ago. There was someone else, a man in his thirties, now living there. He invited her in. Several moths were flying about, which seemed to spook him. He pulled a gun and shot her before she could draw hers.  
  
CS: Hannibal arrived in the town about then. He retraced my steps and arrived at the same house where I had been shot. He interrogated the owner who confessed he was Buffalo Bill. Catherine was being held captive in a deep pit in the basement. She was sure that she was to be slaughtered that day. I had been seriously wounded. Luckily, Hannibal arrived in time for the happy ending.   
  
ML: But that's the part that has me confused. How did Hannibal manage to track you to Buffalo Bill's house, Clarice?  
  
CS: Your brother utilized one of his special skills - that extraordinary sense of smell. He was familiar with both my aroma and Catherine's. He followed my aroma, literally like a bloodhound, until he arrived at a house where he could detect Catherine's fragrance.  
  
ML: And Buffalo Bill gave up without resistance?  
  
HL: Let us say he was persuaded by the reasonableness of my request. As it was, I was barely in time to apply emergency treatment to Clarice's wound and to call for the paramedics.  
  
CS: And when I awoke in the hospital after my operation you were all there. I was able to resume my training at the Academy after a few days and lucked out in not being recycled.  
  
[There are a few moments of silence]  
  
ML: Whoops... It looks like your Dad has eluded his entourage, for the moment. I'd better grab him while I can.  
  
[Mischa walks off determinedly. Ruth Martin excuses herself also and walks away to mingle with her other guests.]  
  
CS: I still find it hard to believe that my Dad and Mischa are a couple.   
  
HL: Do you feel that they are ill-matched?  
  
CS: On the contrary, I think they're perfect for one another. It's just so unlikely that they would ever have met. It's just pure luck that they both visited me in the hospital at the same time.   
  
HL: Perhaps it was fate.  
  
CS: You're joking, but sometimes I feel that fate is playing a game with us. I'm thinking of a particular event in my childhood... No; it's a little too personal.  
  
HL: Now you've intrigued me. I happen to have an untold event in my childhood too. Tell you what - I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.  
  
  
CS: Sort of a quid pro quo? Okey-dokey.  
  
I was brought up in a small town in West Virginia. My dad was town marshall. I really worshipped him. One evening, when I was ten years old, he spied a couple of punks burgling a store. He tried to apprehend them but his shotgun malfunctioned and they shot him in the head. He was critically wounded and not expected to last more than a couple days.  
  
I refused to accept it. I prayed silently with all my strength of concentration for him to recover. I was arguing with Fate and formulating deals... Finally, I came up with a deal that I felt somehow was acceptable to Fate. I had been taught that everyone had a soul mate somewhere out there and it was just a matter of seeking him out. The deal I made with Fate was that when I met my soul mate I would not recognize him and we would go our separate ways. I would give up my chance for true happiness if only my daddy's life was spared.   
  
And miraculously, dad stabilized and slowly began to recover. It took a while, but in a couple months he was back to his old self with no apparent aftereffects. The doctors couldn't explain it, so maybe Fate really did accept my offer.  
  
Your turn, Hannibal. Quid pro quo.  
  
HL: Now this is interesting. Have you ever told your story to anyone else?  
  
CS: No, this was the first time.  
  
HL: Very well. Here is my story.  
  
It was 1944, and my family had been residing in our estate in Lithuania. The German Eastern Front had collapsed and during the fighting our home was shelled and my parents killed. A group of deserters were living in the hunting lodge and were keeping us children locked in the barn. It had been a severe winter and when food ran out our captors resorted to cannibalism, slaughtering children for sustenance. I was six years old and my sister Mischa was two. When they came and selected her I held on to her and tried to fight them off, but of course they were too strong. As they led her away I prayed as hard as I could; the prayer that she be spared consuming my mind. I was bargaining with God, coming up with any deal I could conceive of. At one point I offered to forsake the ability to recognize my soul mate if we should ever meet - an unusual concept for a six year old, but I was not your ordinary six year old. I was making this offer in my prayers when a cry came from outside. One of Mischa's captors had suffered a sudden heart attack and died. This was enough fresh meat to last a while. Mischa was returned to the barn, crying but unharmed. I considered my prayer answered and would accept my part of the deal.  
  
CS: That wasn't funny! All you did was to take my story, twist it around, embellish it and feed it back to me. That really wasn't worthy of you, doctor.  
  
HL: May I show you something, Clarice?  
  
[Hannibal takes his wallet out of his inner pocket, removes a folded sheet of paper from the hidden compartment, unfolds it and hands it to Clarice]  
  
HL: I wrote this the day it happened. The top part is in Lithuanian. Below it is the English translation that I added later. Would you read it please.  
  
CS: It says:  
"To Fate:  
In exchange for my sister Mischa's life, I agree to forsake the ability to recognize my soul mate if we should ever meet.  
Hannibal Lecter, 19 November 1944"  
  
I apologize, Hannibal. I was wrong to accuse you of trickery.   
  
HL: Nothing to apologize for. If I had been in your position, I would have felt the same. It's fortunate that you told your story first. If I had told mine first, I would have been skeptical of your "soul mate" story without tangible proof.  
  
CS: But how can we explain the nearly identical bargains with Fate?  
  
HL: There is no need to explain it. Both of us, in a moment of overwhelming emotional turmoil, happened to make the same bargaining offer to Fate. It's unlikely, but coincidences do happen.  
  
CS: It's not only that the same offer was made by both. It's the fact that each was followed by a response that could justifiably be termed "miraculous."  
  
HL: I agree that it strains the boundaries of credibility to attribute all to coincidence but what else would you suggest. I don't believe that either of our careers would benefit by our claiming to be witnesses to a miracle - especially as most people would prefer to believe the simpler explanation that the two of us are acting in collusion to perpetrate a hoax. In fact, I suggest that neither of us should tell anyone else about this.  
  
CS: I suppose you're right. It seems a shame, though, to waste such a great story.  
  
HL: Actually, the stories don't really require that we be each other's soul mates.  
  
CS: You mean there could be a third person who is your soul mate and a fourth one who is mine? Naaah...that's too cumbersome. Occam's Razor requires the simplest explanation that fits the facts.  
  
HL: I'm not sure you have a handle on Occam's Razor but I agree that it is neater to conclude that we are soul mates. So, what, if anything do we do about it?  
  
CS: [With exaggerated coyness] Why, what do you mean, sir?  
  
HL: Don't you have the least bit of curiosity as to whether it might really be true - that we actually are soul mates? I admit that once the possibility was raised I've been giving it some serious thought.  
  
CS: I confess I've been thinking about it too; and I wouldn't be averse to a practical test. Shall we meet at my house? My housemate, Ardelia, will be out all night.  
  
HL: How opportune. I'll meet you there.   
  
  
  
  
  
Scene 2 - Clarice's home, interior, one hour later. Present are Hannibal and Clarice.  
  
  
  
CS: Would you like some wine? Not up to your usual standards, I'm afraid.  
  
HL: Wine would be fine.  
  
CS: I'm feeling some guilt twinges. I don't have a committed relationship myself, but I don't like going behind Senator Martin's back.  
  
HL: Ruth and I have an understanding. We like and respect each other but it's no great love match - More a matter of having a compatible escort handy.  
  
CS: This feels so strange. It's like living a dream.  
  
HL: Are you having second thoughts, Clarice? You don't have to do anything you don't feel ready for.  
  
CS: No, no; it's nothing like that. It's just that I've had a little crush on you since we teamed up on the Buffalo Bill case. I fantasized about us getting together, but I never considered it a realistic possibility. After all, you're the Nobel Peace Prize winner who can have any woman he desires.  
  
HL: '...can have any woman he desires'? I'm afraid you're confusing Nobel Prize winners with Rock Stars. Actually, I've done some fantasizing myself. You're a beautiful woman, Clarice Starling. You have courage, integrity, intelligence and strength among your many other fine qualities. Only a fool would fail to appreciate your worth. In other words, I'm nuts about you. And since I can have any woman I desire...  
  
[They embrace. Their lips meet, tentatively at first, then increasingly passionate. After a full minute they separate]  
  
CS: Wow! What happens now?  
  
HL: What do you mean?  
  
CS: Well, this is as far as I've ever gone before. I really don't know what to do next.  
  
HL: This sounds like a job for the Instruction Manual!  
  
CS: The Instruction Manual, Hannibal?  
  
HL: That's right - The Instruction Manual, Clarice. Go to your computer and get on the Internet. Go to the FanFiction site, select 'Movies,' then select 'Hannibal.' The screen will show a list of stories. Choose an 'R' or 'NC-17' rated story at random, and scroll down to the erotica. Use the erotica as an Instruction Manual for a fulfilling encounter.  
  
CS: I see. And the randomness of the selection encourages variety and spontaneity.  
  
[Clarice turns the computer on and quickly locates the information desired.]  
  
[The performers improvise within the framework of the 'Instruction Manual'. Originality is encouraged. Audience participation is invited.]  
  
  
  
  
  
Scene 3 - Same set, two hours later. Clarice and Hannibal are in bed, exhausted.  
  
  
  
CS: That wasn't half bad.  
  
HL: Thank you for that overwhelming endorsement. I shall treasure it always.  
  
[Clarice turns toward Hannibal and kisses him thoroughly]  
  
HL: On a related subject, I must confess...  
  
CS: Hush, now. If you're going to confess you tried to trick me with that 'soul mate miracle', forget about it - I already know that. Most of my story was already common knowledge -- the fact that my father had been shot and almost died. After I was shot you spent long periods of time visiting me in the hospital, talking to me even while I was sedated and couldn't respond. It was then that you planted one item in my memory, the 'soul mate' offer which never happened.  
  
HL: What gave me away?  
  
CS: That note you've supposedly been carrying since 1944. Remember that you're dealing with a hot-shot Special Agent of the FBI. I noticed immediately that the note had been written with a ball-point pen.  
  
HL: Careless of me. I'm afraid I've failed the 'soul mate' test.  
  
CS: That's okay. I'm ready to give you a make-up exam.   
  
[They kiss as the stage lights fade]  
  
  
[Curtain]  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
